Down the pub

Saturday night saw another gathering of good friends in a fun place - everyone who was there recommends that you get along to The Eagle pub just off City Road on one of their Unplanned Afternoons nights. New and old music lovingly selected by djs spinning the wheels for free got the crowd buzzing - all they ask is that you donate to whichever charity they're collecting for that day (Sat was Friends of the Earth's The Big Ask). Or you could go one better by following the link and emailing your MP to express your concern about climate change - Mine's winging its way to Gorgeous George Galloway as I type...

Ruthie did her homework and filled us all in on the pub's long and interesting history: Charles Dickens drank in the music hall that was on the site in the 19C and the drinking spot is still immortalised in the nursery rhyme Pop Goes The Weasel. I love the Cockney rhyming slang element and can just imagine a father of ten pawning his coat to get down the boozer for lunch on a Monday :)

And for more tales of Brits and their love of getting Brahms (and Liszt), check out Sands' recent post Brits and their Beer

I had a marvellous time on Saturday - see you all back at The Eagle in a year!

Au revoir London Underground!

Yesterday was my last day at work before heading off on the big trip. I'm trying to avoid cliches but will to have to go all out for this one: it hasn't sunk in that I won't be going in to work and seeing all of my friends and colleagues next week or for the next year. I just can't get my head around it...

Still, it was a wonderful last day and I wouldn't have wanted it to be any different (we missed you, Matt, that's the only thing I would have changed with a wave with my magic wand!) - thank you so much everyone for sharing all or parts of the last 4 and a half years with me, it's been excellent.

And, guess what? I didn't cry! Admittedly, there was welling up but no actual tears fell from my eyes. Not then maybe, but they might in a minute! All you boys and ladies with the sweepstake (you know who you are), does that mean I get to keep the pot or was did someone draw 11am the following morning??

On a sober note, I was pacing my drinking and for once it worked - I am a very relieved and happy lady this morning. It looks like the theory that Lisa and I developed of sticking to sugary drinks rather than acidic ones keep the hangover at bay. Seriously folks, try it next Friday in the Buckingham. The huge fish finger sandwich probably didn't do any harm either...

Finally, Sands and Theo, can you send me a photo of the general merriment to add to this post when you get a second? (Thanks T!)